It´s been a month! It still feels extremely surreal to be here. I still don't feel like I'm never going back to Swansea again but I know that it isn't my life anymore. I now have a routine here which is nice even though I am still lodging with my friend and her family.
November the 1st will hipefully signal another new section of this trip. I will finally be moving into my own flat. After laborious issues with the contract it now seems that it is fianlly ready to be signed and fianlly we (My university friend and I) can move in. It will be nice to have my own space at last to properly unpack and mess up my room. I must say that I am sad to be leaving my adopted Canarian family as I have been made truly welcome and care for like a brother/son/nephew. My adopted brother-in-law has cooked up some more treats and my adopted mother/auntie has insisted on making all the tradional dishes just so I can try them. I must say, I haven't yet encountered a dish that I didn't like. Added to that she is still doing my washing an ironing and was presented with perfect pocket squares last week - my handkerchiefs washed and pressed into crisp oblongs... bliss!
This week I have also resigned from a job. In my first week I somewhat hastely acepted a job in a language academy on MNonday and Wednesday evenings. I should have thought about what I was loooking for and how much time I could offer. I asked for teenagers and adults and maximum 5 hours a week and got 4 - 10 year olds and 6 hours. Never one to turn down a challenge, I sadi I would try it. The following caper ensues:
Day 1 - I reach the school (I am sent to a different location to give the class, not the academy) and find that one of the other teachers is already there. I wander into her class to ask where exactly I am supposed to be and she enquires "Have you only just got here?" in her accent which I guess is Zimbabwe. "Yes" I reply with sincerity. "You should have been here an hour ago" she fires back. Hmmmmm... My first problem. My timetable given to me at the school clearly says 4 o'clock. I deonstrate my point by showing her my, for once, still pristine copy. We agree that it isn't my fault and that for future reference the class starts at 3. I am invited to go and meet the other 2 teachers working at the smae time and the classroom that I will be teaching in. After several apologies for not turning up an hour before we all begin chatting away like old friends. It appears that the kids are horrors and that they are happy to have another person to join their group whether they arrive late or early.
Off to the language academy for the next class. I arrive and toell of my faux pax to which I get groans and eye rolls to say "You are not alone, what a surprise you ahd the wrong time given to you!"
the next two classes pass by without too much bother except for the hyperactive kids, the lack of books, resources, planning, register, the grass being strimmed and cut outside my classroom window and one boy crying before he even entered the classroom because he didn't know me! Some might say a complete success!
It is obvious by the second week that the timetable as it stands makes it impossible for me to have eniough time to eat or rest for 12 hours. Soemthing I do not welcome. I explain to the boss that I need to eat and she turns less than poilte. After Halloween is a big success and dressed as a vampire I decide enough is enough alreday and the very next morning I quit!
I came here wanting to have time to enjoy myself, not work for nothing and tiring myself out in the process. I feel better already!
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Culture Shock
Having lived abroad only 3 years ago, I didn't expect to land in an unknown world yet again. Once more I find myself an alien! Thankfully not green and Martian-like and as yet not like the tourists I spotted on a trip last weekend to the south, red and Mancunian, but nonetheless a foreigner.
I found myself greeted by a strange man at the airport - something I had not expected- unless my friend had lost hair had a sex change and grown a beard and about two feet taller. Fortunately it was one of my prospective colleagues and was in fact a ruse so that my friend could jump out and surprise me. This was shortly followed by another of my old friends hooplah-ing me with three garlands, the colours of the flag! Of course, in typical Spanish style, I was poked, jabbed, punched, slapped, kissed, hugged, squeezed and shouted at all in the name of an everyday greeting.
I have been living with my friend, her husband and mother. After much trepidation and changing my body clock to have a 3 course meal at 2 o'clock and then dinner at 10o'clock at night, I have settled in great. In fact I have never felt more at home in someone's house. I have been really lucky that everyone has been so willing to help and welcome me and I have already been involved in more than my fair share of family and friends gatherings. My first Sunday was spent at a relation's house where I was faced with approximately 15 members of the family all laughing and joking in Spanish. Even though I probably only caught 20 percent of the conversation and only managed a few interjections to participate myself, it reminded that with all the cultural differences that this wasn’t so different to my own family: a mountain of food, plenty of drink and laughter in abundance as well as the willingness to accept a stranger into their traditions without the blink of an eye.
I do feel guilty that my friend won't let me do or pay for anything. Her husband had cooked the most delicious dishes everyday and her mum has insisted on doing all my washing and ironing, even down to my socks! It's like having a new pair to put on every day; one of my favourite things in the World. And like a lion tamer cracking his whip, she has the ability to swat flies with one swift flick of a tea towel. A skill I fear takes years of practice.
This week I have managed to find a flat and have hired a car. Should make things easier and finally I will be able to fully unpack my case including the trainers I brought with me in an attempt to get fit. Watch this space...
I will be sad to leave the family atmosphere however, and I don’t know how I can ever repay their hospitality.
In other news, I was shown the craft store cupboard at the primary school on Friday. To a budding Blue Peter presenter it was the worst thing they could have done, especially as they told me where to find the key and to help myself to the abundance of paints, card, stickers, scissors, pencils, felts, Velcro, plasticine etc. Big mistake I think on the part of the School!
Let's see what next week brings!
I found myself greeted by a strange man at the airport - something I had not expected- unless my friend had lost hair had a sex change and grown a beard and about two feet taller. Fortunately it was one of my prospective colleagues and was in fact a ruse so that my friend could jump out and surprise me. This was shortly followed by another of my old friends hooplah-ing me with three garlands, the colours of the flag! Of course, in typical Spanish style, I was poked, jabbed, punched, slapped, kissed, hugged, squeezed and shouted at all in the name of an everyday greeting.
I have been living with my friend, her husband and mother. After much trepidation and changing my body clock to have a 3 course meal at 2 o'clock and then dinner at 10o'clock at night, I have settled in great. In fact I have never felt more at home in someone's house. I have been really lucky that everyone has been so willing to help and welcome me and I have already been involved in more than my fair share of family and friends gatherings. My first Sunday was spent at a relation's house where I was faced with approximately 15 members of the family all laughing and joking in Spanish. Even though I probably only caught 20 percent of the conversation and only managed a few interjections to participate myself, it reminded that with all the cultural differences that this wasn’t so different to my own family: a mountain of food, plenty of drink and laughter in abundance as well as the willingness to accept a stranger into their traditions without the blink of an eye.
I do feel guilty that my friend won't let me do or pay for anything. Her husband had cooked the most delicious dishes everyday and her mum has insisted on doing all my washing and ironing, even down to my socks! It's like having a new pair to put on every day; one of my favourite things in the World. And like a lion tamer cracking his whip, she has the ability to swat flies with one swift flick of a tea towel. A skill I fear takes years of practice.
This week I have managed to find a flat and have hired a car. Should make things easier and finally I will be able to fully unpack my case including the trainers I brought with me in an attempt to get fit. Watch this space...
I will be sad to leave the family atmosphere however, and I don’t know how I can ever repay their hospitality.
In other news, I was shown the craft store cupboard at the primary school on Friday. To a budding Blue Peter presenter it was the worst thing they could have done, especially as they told me where to find the key and to help myself to the abundance of paints, card, stickers, scissors, pencils, felts, Velcro, plasticine etc. Big mistake I think on the part of the School!
Let's see what next week brings!
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